A cat’s tale

*Today’s post is part 1 in a three-part series by my friend Debra Dickey. As a fellow cat lover, I’m particularly thankful for the humor :).

I have an acquaintance who always had the most hilarious things happen to her, and with her story-telling abilities, they were even funnier with the narration!! I often thought, “How could all those things happen to one person??” Well, yesterday, I was introduced to just a taste of such unimagined predicaments as she used to regale us with!

It being the Thursday after the ice storm, I decided to leave home about half an hour later than usual due to possible road conditions, plus, give other drivers time to already be at work. Bridges were slushy, but fortunately the roads were clear. With a forecast of higher temperatures for the afternoon, I had no traveling concerns for the remainder of the day, so I arrived at work about 15 minutes after 8:00 a.m., pulled into my typical parking place, and turned off the engine.

This is where my tale begins. I immediately heard a disturbing, mournful yawl, and because I was still inside my car, I knew it could only be coming from one place — under the hood. Oh yes, one of my Dad’s cats had crawled up in my car and ridden 25 miles with me to work. OH . MY . GOSH! And so now arises the conundrum — the challenge of a wild cat rescue!

Immediately I launch into ‘cat rescue’ mode, but of course, after I raised the hood, and before I could latch on to her, the cat jumped down and began to run in the parking lot to hide. Because it is an outdoor cat, it is in no wise tame, and though I tried in vain, she would not come to me at all when I called her. I followed her from car to car, but she always crouched underneath and unreachable. (Think “Funniest Home Videos”!) Finally, finally, she jumped up on another vehicle’s tire, and although I knew rescue would be terrible, I also knew that this would be my only chance, so I grabbed her and held on for dear life. She went ballistic, biting, scratching, clawing . . . I will probably have scars for life! At any rate, I managed to hang on to her. Whew! Yes. Yay!! Mission accomplished! ……. Ooh . . wait! Now what?!? I have a wild cat on my hands!! I have to figure out what to do with her, and how to get her back home again. Great. I might have been able to let her loose in a confined room in my office until the end of the day, but for a variety of reasons, I didn’t really think that was my best option. So I brought her inside, and sat in my chair, coat, one glove, still on, and held her and cuddled her until she began to calm down. I’m bleeding, but at least I know that she is safe for the moment, not lost somewhere 25 miles from home.

Fortunately, work was a little slow that morning, but we attracted numerous co-workers who were immediately taken with this pretty cat, and very interested to know the reason for her visit! As I related our adventure, several people would have loved to pet her, but I quickly explained what a very bad idea that would be. . . .

The end to this story is that I called my sister, who doesn’t live too far away, and is quite kind that way, and asked if she would come to pick up the cat and take it home again, and, other than one mishap when she accidentally let the cat go (!), and the fact that by now it is sheeting outside, we got the cat in a box, and she and the cat made the trip without further misfortune!

The cat is fine, showing up in all the regular places at her home, but oh the tales she will have to tell her grandchildren! But if you happen to be superstitious, it’s a bit uncanny that the number for this story is 13…..and it was a calico/black cat . . . . .

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Published by bethany

Just as wheat is threshed and winnowed to remove the chaff from the grain, I prefer to focus on what matters--just the wheat--rather than what doesn't, on what's good rather than what's not. I hope you'll find my posts to reflect this theme and provide you with just the good stuff--just wheat--to mull over.
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